


The Anti-Birthday Society, or The Hazards of Memorializing

by Dragonomatopoeia (IntelligentAirhead)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Also Xion's a lesbian, Character Study, False Memories, Found Family, Friendship and Personhood, Gee Sora how come everyone in your heart gets to be Trans, Gen, It's solidarity, KH3 spoilers, More characters may be tagged over time, Recovery, This is primarily friendship focused but also Riku is gay, Working things out with friends, just so we're clear on that, post kh3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20037262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntelligentAirhead/pseuds/Dragonomatopoeia
Summary: It turns out that sacrificing himself for other people is much more difficult than Riku first anticipated, especially when his friends have a long history of trawling the Darkness for any sign of those they've lost. Even if that friend is a replica, and they had a perfectly good original Riku to begin with.Unexpectedly brought back to the World of Light, Riku is faced with his greatest challenge yet: figuring out, what, exactly, he wants to do with his life.Luckily, he doesn't have to do it alone.[Post KH3]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you spend an entire summer playing every Kingdom Hearts game for the first time and are immediately overcome with the need to write about a few characters who have never interacted before becoming best friends. And that's just how it is.
> 
> That said, heads up: There will be some spoilers for KH3

Riku is pretty sure he’d only been dead for about a week by the time they brought him back. Which is weird. Not upsetting, per sé— or, well… okay, so he _had_ been a bit upset at first, but that was before they brought Naminé in to show she was already taken care of and walking around with a body of her own, thereby proving that Real Thing _hadn’t_ explicitly disobeyed Riku’s dying wish like a jackass. 

So. Getting resurrected? Ultimately not upsetting. 

Still weird though. 

Weird, but... fine. Unexpected, sure, but fine. And weird. Very weird.

It’s just that if he _had_ been expecting to ever wake up again, he’d at least think it would take longer. A non-zero turnover rate for resurrection is impressive enough, even considering that everyone that wakes up in Radiant Garden is more dormant, wandering, or lost than dead. Boosting the efficiency beyond that is just... overdoing it, really. 

But, well, if they didn’t have the system down at this point, they likely wouldn’t have wasted resources on trying to revive a replica, so Riku should probably be grateful. Or something. Especially considering he’s pretty sure the only people that even knew him well enough to want him back were Real Thing and Naminé, and even that’s a stretch. After all, Naminé barely knew him in the first place.

Anyway. 

It seems like the high success rate doesn’t stop everyone from reacting to each go-around with enough excitement to power the city, judging from the reception Riku had received. The very warm, very overwhelming reception.

Seeing his own face on the edge of tears always feels gross, like stepping in a puddle while wearing socks, and seeing Real Thing get choked up had somehow been worse than any mirror. 

The rest of it was… fine? Whenever Riku tries to remember anything distinct, it’s all a bit of a blur. He knows Naminé had tried her best to give him a hug, even though she’s really, really bad at it. Then a slew of people introduced themselves at once. Axel— Or, Lea, now— had apologized for something. Riku had punched Vexen. Other stuff probably happened. At some point he'd eaten something and gone to bed. An anticlimactic end to his return from the dead. Return from the darkness? Purgatorial nightmare.

Whatever the case, he has a life again. Now he just has to figure out what he’s going to do with it.

Lying back in a bed that isn’t his— though it's still the closest thing he’s ever had— it all feels like too much. Maybe it’s ungrateful of him, but... everyone else seems to care a lot more about bringing Riku back than he ever did. It could just be the way they are— the way the operate. But it feels more like they have a vital misunderstanding of the situation. 

Everyone seems to think that leaving the vessel behind was some huge sacrifice— that Riku was being noble or something— when, in the end, it was just math. Replica is less than or equal to Real Thing. Real Thing fills all the qualifiers and conditions, so there’s no need for the Replica, and the equal sign gets crossed out as an unnecessary part of the equation. After that, the only thing left is the “less than.” More than a fair exchange for Naminés life. Logical, simple, clean. Zero out the remainder where you can— one Riku is enough to keep everyone safe. Enough of an answer for any problem that needs solving.

Anything more is just redundant. 

* * *

When Riku remembers being nine years old and exhausted with a cold, slumped over in the corner of his mother’s office, he knows it isn’t actually his memory. He knows it isn’t his sickness, isn’t his mother, isn’t his story. But he remembers. 

He remembers trying to read a few lines from his book before another throb of pain would shoot behind his eyes, stopping his progress as surely as a kick to the head. 

Occasionally Riku’s mother would walk in, checking in with a quick glance before rustling through paperwork and charging back out again. In, glance, shuffle, grab, click-clack away. She moved mechanically, methodically, always. Always efficient. Always the same.

No wonder Riku keeps falling into the same patterns nowadays— he learned it from the best. Or... well, _ he _ didn’t, but... 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Anyway.

There had only been one notable break from the pattern, when the shuffle turned into a string of swearing. 

“What’s the matter?” Riku had asked. 

His mother had swiveled to face him, face falling for a moment. She must have forgotten he was there. Opening her mouth, she had glanced between him and the sheet in her hands. “Sorry, Kiddo. It’s nothing you need to worry about.” She frowned at him. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” 

Riku shook his head, then winced at the way it set off his headache. “Can’t.” He's always been the worst at resting. “Can I help?” 

“Afraid not,” his mother answered, tired smile pulling at her lips. “It’s an issue with the printer, and you’re a bit too...” 

Riku had bristled at the unspoken implication. He had been plenty old enough to help. 

“Sick to focus on something this involved,” she had finished, and Riku had deflated a bit. Still, just because he was sick didn’t mean he couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t useless. 

”Maybe if I knew the problem I could help,” Riku had argued. 

His mother had laughed. “Alright,” she’d said, clearly humoring him. “It seems like the ink has dried out in one of the cartridges, so it’s trying to substitute grey with yellow.”

Riku hesitated for a moment. “Isn’t that a good thing? That it’s still trying?” 

“Ordinarily, yes,” his mother had answered, fondly. “But this is a very important document, and it has to look a very certain way. Like this, it just wastes paper.” She shook her head. “Substitutions cause more problems than they solve, most of the time.” 

Riku remembers this conversation, even though it isn’t really his memory, and he isn’t the Riku who was sick, and it isn’t even his mother he’s remembering. He remembers, and he wonders what kind of problems he was supposed to solve in the first place. 

* * *

Riku is sitting against the wall of an alleyway in Twilight Town, one eye trained on the sandlot, when Xion finds him. 

“Roxas isn’t playing today,” Riku says, cutting her off before she has to ask. “I think it’s, uh... Little League?” He squints, trying to come up with any other explanation for why people would be handing out foam bats and velcro protective wear to a bunch of elementary schoolers. 

“I didn’t know they had Struggle tournaments for kids,” Xion says, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looks over at the lot. She turns back to look at him after a moment, head cocked to the side. “And hello to you, _ too, _ Riku,” she says, voice teasing. “Glad to see you. Yes, it is a good day, isn’t it?”

“Sorry,” Riku says, wincing. “Hi.”

Xion shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “I wasn’t actually looking for Roxas, by the way, but thanks for trying to help.” Then, she does something utterly baffling.

She sits down next to him.

There are a lot of things Riku could say. Smart things, probably. Cutting things, if he wanted to be an antisocial asshole, but he’s trying to be better than that. Following that, he could say concerned things, too. A million and one different possibilities exist, many of them nuanced and measured responses to the situation at hand. 

He says none of them.

“Why are you…?” He trails off, instead.

“I’ve been hanging out with Naminé, a bit,” Xion says. “And she, um, well.” She clears her throat. “Based off what she’s told me, I guess I expected you to be spending more time together?”

Riku’s eyes narrow. 

“Not that she’s told me much!” Xion immediately backpedals. “It just seems like you have a lot to work out, and I know she feels bad about the memory thing, and I just thought…” She shrugs. “Sorry. This is none of my business.” She tugs at the bottom of her shirt. 

“It’s… fine,” Riku says, after a moment. “I didn’t realize she was worried.” He lifts his face, staring at a loose brick that juts out of the side of the opposite wall. “I figured she’d be happier if I made myself scarce.” He scratches his thumb against the concrete.

“Why?” Xion asks, sounding genuinely confused. “You’re friends, aren’t you?”

Riku scoffs. “Not really. She never asked to be put in that situation.” Those memories might as well be shackles, as far as Naminé’s concerned. “She shouldn’t have to force herself to be around me just because she feels obligated, or like she has to make up for—”

“That’s not why,” Xion says, her voice like the crack of a blizzaga. “And if that’s your reason, you should apologize.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and then Xion winces, her fists clenching in her lap. “Sorry. It’s just… She’s been really worried about you.”

She glares up at Riku, eyes steely with determination, looking so much like Sora for a moment that he has to look away. “It’s not fair to her or you to just _ decide _ how she feels and never talk to her again.” Her voice falters at the end of the sentence, like it’s staggering beneath a heavy load. “You’re friends. No matter what you think. You _ are.” _

Riku opens and closes his mouth for a long moment, waiting for his mouth to form anything resembling words. Instead, he exhales, inclining his head. 

“You’re right,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Oh?” Xion blinks at him, mouth open wide. “Oh! Yeah! Of course I am.”

Riku tries to cover up his snort, which only makes it worse when it descends into a full-blown laugh. 

After a moment, Xion starts laughing along, loudly enough that the kids down in the sandlot start shooting them weird looks. Riku sticks his tongue out at one. The kid makes a face back. 

“It’s not like I meant to leave it this long,” Riku says, once they’ve settled back down. “It’s just… Being with Real Thing so long meant that a lot of his memories ended up settling in me, and it was already confusing enough with the fake memories. Not to mention the way past me remembers the Keyblade Graveyard.” 

Xion makes a face, looking like she’s about to say something before closing her mouth.

Riku waits a moment, then continues. “It’s like there are two cameras filming the same thing from different angles, but it’s _ also _ set up like a spot the difference puzzle.” He pulls at the ends of his hair, a bad habit he’s never outgrown.

“Couldn’t Naminé have helped with that?” Xion asks, after a moment. “She’s pretty good at pulling memories back together.”

“That’s the thing,” Riku sighs. “I never really had any memories of my own in the first place.” The vague copies of the real Riku’s experiences that are floating around in his head are probably the best next thing. Not that they do him much good. 

Xion makes a faint, choked-off sound beside him, like a sob, and great, he’s managed to dropkick the conversation into a hole so depressing that it’s irrecoverable. Fantastic job, Riku. Someone comes to check on him out of pure concern, and he makes her— Wait a second.

The sound comes again, and no. Nope. This cannot be right, because Xion is definitely holding back laughter. 

“What.”

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry,” She bites out, past hiccoughing giggles, and Riku can feel himself puffing up like an insulted bird, but _ seriously, what the hell? _

“It’s just! This is a weird thing to have in common with someone!” Xion laughs harder, bending over. “You don’t— oh my god, I can’t bre—” She takes in a gulp of air. “Okay! Okay, I just… I had the same problem, and it’s not really… It’s not a common issue? I’m sorry, I know it’s not funny, but it’s… It’s really funny, actually, but in a sad way?” She shakes her head.

Riku stares at her for a long moment, then laughs. It comes out louder than he expects it to, but, then again, that would require expecting anything at all. 

“How about that?” He says, after a moment, and lets himself settle back against the wall. “Just get a load of us.”

“The biggest nobodies of them all,” Xion agrees, huffing. She shakes her head, then reaches out to grab a nearby pebble. 

“I don’t think I’d go that far.” Riku pushes back his bangs so he can better see... whatever it is she’s doing. Which, of course, means she freezes in place.

“Huh,” Xion says, after a moment. Then, a smile spreads across her face. “Yeah. _ You _ wouldn’t, huh?” She laughs again, softly, then bounces the pebble off the opposing wall. 

Riku’s pretty sure he’s missing something here, but he’s never made a habit of letting people know he doesn’t get what’s happening before, and he’ll be damned if he starts now. Instead, he grabs another pebble and climbs to his feet. 

“First one to knock that loose brick out of place wins?”

“You’re on,” Xion agrees, sliding into a fighting stance before the words are even out of her mouth. “Loser buys ice cream.”

“We’re getting ice cream now?” Riku asks, rolling the pebble around in his hand.

“Of course,” Xion says. She crouches down to gather some loose gravel. “It’s the icing on the cake, after all.”

“Sorry,” Riku begins, “And the cake is… What, exactly?”

Xion cocks her head, staring up at him. “Um. This afternoon? The game?” She shrugs, then begins to stand back up. “The day? The conversation. Something you enjoy. And now, something you’re sharing with friends.” She smiles. “That’s the important part.”

“You’re starting to sound like Sora,” Riku says, then winces. “Sorry, I—”

“Or does he sound like me?” Xion interrupts. She wiggles a finger. “Makes you think.”

Before Riku can even blink, Xion spins on her heel, using the momentum to sling a spray of gravel at the brick, sending a cloud of dust into the air. It’s impressive, even if the brick remains unmoved. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Xion says, facing away. “So what if I was made to be something I’m not? Just some copy, or p-puppet.” She stumbles over the word, but pushes it out, like she’s clearing a storm drain. “Sure, that may have been the plan, but…” She shakes her head, then lifts it, turning back to Riku with a grin. “I made myself!” She laughs. “All those plans, and I ruined all of them by being myself _too well. _Isn’t that incredible?” 

Yeah, Riku thinks, fist clenching around the pebble. Yeah, it is. 

“I’m not anyone else,” Xion continues. “I’m me. And if anyone else thinks otherwise, then that’s their problem.” 

“And a pretty big one, considering your aim,” Riku says, floundering for any conversational lifeboat that won’t immediately crash against the rocks of his own identity issues. 

“Exactly!” Xion beams, then makes a face. “Ugh.”

“Ugh?” Riku glances behind him, checking to see if a heartless snuck up on them without him realizing. 

“Oh, there’s— It’s nothing here,” Xion clarifies, waving a hand. “Don’t worry, it’s just…” She groans. “Can I be petty for a second?”

There’s a moment where Riku freezes, shocked, before a grin spreads across his face. Does the amount of anticipatory glee he’s feeling say anything good about his character? Probably not. However, he can make room in his schedule to hate himself for it later, at a time when a member of the more cheerful, determined group of his acquaintances isn’t about to let loose about something that irritates her. It’s like seeing a unicorn. Or, well, seeing a unicorn finally snap and start spitting flame. And who is Riku to put a stop to the glorious march of nature? 

“Absolutely.” 

“I know that Saïx— I know that Isa and Axel were friends for years, and I’m glad they’re able to go back to that, but…” Xion huffs. “I don’t know! Maybe I’m overreacting to this? But when he was in the organization, he treated me like— he didn’t say a lot of nice stuff.” She clenches her fist. 

“And I know he’s apologized, but I still feel…” She sighs. “I don’t know. It’s nice to spend time with Axel and Roxas again, and Olette’s really cool, and Roxas’s other friends seem nice too, but everything changed all at once, and there are all of these new people, and I just…” She trails off. 

“I don’t think you’re overreacting,” Riku says. “For what it’s worth.” He rolls his pebble in his hand, then remembers it’s probably long past his turn to try knocking down the brick. 

“You don’t?” Xion’s eyes grow huge and hopeful, and yeah, okay, the resemblance to Sora and Kairi may be a _ bit _ more noticeable when she does that, but the expression is definitely unique. 

“Nah.” Riku lines up the shot. “I mean, it sounds like you have two problems. Isa was a dick, so it’s hard to be his friend. Don’t think anyone would blame you for that one.” He throws the pebble, and the force of it takes a chunk off the mortar, but the angle’s off. The brick mocks him, unmoved. 

“And the second problem?”

“You want to spend time with your friends, and they want to spend time with other people.” Riku sighs. Thinks about a star charm that turns into a crown charm that fades away into nothing at all. Shakes it off. “That’s, uh… a pretty common one.”

Xion groans. “It sounds so stupid, though.”

“Yeah. That’s jealousy.” Riku shakes his head, crossing back over to his place against the wall. “It’s kind of irrational like that.” He crosses his arms. “Just don’t…” Open a door to darkness? Make deals with mysterious figures for the power to beat your best friend in a fight? He wasn’t even the Riku responsible for those. Fight someone over fake memories? Fight yourself over who got to be the real thing? Xion’s probably sorted those ones out herself already. “Overreact.”

“I should probably just talk to them,” Xion says, proving she’s more well-adjusted than Riku may ever manage. 

“Probably,” Riku says, launching another rock at the brick. This one hits, and the brick wobbles. Trembling as it reaches the end, no doubt. 

“Unless…” Xion adds, trailing off. 

Riku squints at her.

“Maybe… I was thinking that…” She hedges, fishing for the right words for a moment. This cannot end well.

“If it were possible at all, and you were alright with it—” 

Always the least alarming way to start a sentence. Fantastic. 

“It might feel better if I had someone on my side? As just, like… Reassurance!” 

There’s a moment where Riku stares at her, trying his best to take in whatever the hell she just suggested at face value instead of following his instincts, creating a dark portal, and fleeing to Arendelle. 

“Let me get this straight,” he says, pinching his nose. “Your solution to wanting some alone time with your best friends… is to bring in another person you barely know. Do I have that right?” 

_ “Riku.” _

“Don’t ‘Riku’ me! I am repeating exactly what you just said!” 

“Yeah, but you made it sound ridiculous!” Xion grunts. “It makes sense!" She crosses her arms. "I promise that I'll ask them to hang out later, just us, but in the meantime… I know they all want to hang out, and it would just..." She sighs. "It'd be nice if I had people to lean on too, okay?” She deflates as she talks, growing smaller, and god. God, Riku’s can’t stand his friends looking like that. 

“Alright,” he concedes. “Alright, I’ll just— why me, anyway? This is like the first time we’ve ever really talked.” 

“Thanks, Riku!” Xion beams at him. “And, well… We have a lot in common, I guess? And it’s easy to talk to you.” Well, at least he has that going for him. 

If there’s one thing Riku’s unequivocally better at than Real Thing, it’s having a conversation. Sure, the words all tumble out together and kinda make him want to die once they’re out in the open, but at least he says what he’s thinking, unlike Mr. Stares-Blankly-for-Five-Minutes-Before-Starting-A-Sentence-He-Never-Finishes-and-Then-Walks-Off. It’s cause for celebration when the guy manages to string along a combo of four full sentences.

Exception being when he talks to Sora, but that’s a given.

If Riku ends up anything like Real Thing in the next year or two, he’s going to have to ask someone to put him out of his misery. Maybe Xion would do the honors. 

Riku’s brought out of his own head by a crashing sound, followed by Xion cheering. 

“Success!” Xion says, jumping up in excitement. The brick, defeated, is in pieces on the ground.

“Nice!” Riku congratulates. Then, he freezes. “Wait, how much does ice cream cost?”

“Don’t know!” Xion says, already halfway down the alley. “Winners never have to pay!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen a great many people refer to Replica Riku a bunch of different ways, and I can't blame them. I know I hate using 'replica'; it feels mean. However, most of the possible workarounds don't work out well for internal narration. 
> 
> After all, I wouldn't refer to myself in the third person as Gay Air to distinguish myself from some phantom straight version of me that may exist-- god forbid-- in an alternate timeline. That would just be ridiculous. 
> 
> Anyway, names are weird. But we'll get to that later.


	2. Chapter 2

Riku remembers being seven years old and sitting on the shoreline, Sora chattering next to him. The problem is, Sora is also Naminé, who is also Kairi, even though Kairi hadn’t even fallen from the sky at that point. 

“Why don’t you just take surfing lessons with me?” Naminé had asked, hair cropped and brown. 

“I  _ know _ how to surf,” Riku had responded, crunching wet sand between his fingers. “I want to try something else.” 

“But  _ ballet?”  _ Sora had wrinkled his nose, wrapping his arms around his knees. 

“Ballet can be cool.”

“I’m not saying it’s not  _ cool,” _ Kairi had contested, standing... over him? Behind him? Grinning down at him. “I’m just saying it’ll be lonely without me there.”

“Yeah, right.” Riku had snorted. “You’re the one who’s going to be lonely.”

“Uh,  _ duh,” _ the one person who matters had said, bright and shapeless in his mind, face after face superimposed. “You’re my best friend.”

* * *

If Riku’s being honest with himself, it’s the memories of Sora and Kairi that are the real problem. Which sucks, considering those memories take up about fifteen years worth of brainspace all by themselves. It’s like saying that the only real problem with breathing is the part where his lungs inflate: an involuntary reflex taking a sledgehammer to his basic life support systems.

Just goes to show people shouldn’t even have ‘involuntary’ reflexes. The entire concept is bullshit. Enough work went into getting Riku a body of his own that he should get to control when and how he remembers things, or breathes, or whatever. He’s had enough of the horrible decisions his body and brain make unsupervised. Riding backseat while Real Thing carted him around was one thing; having his own body and still not having the keys to the ignition is something completely different. Something worse.

If there’s anything to be grateful for, it’s that he doesn’t have to worry about getting a new set of even more confusing memories while he’s walking around by his lonesome. 

Probably.

At least In Castle Oblivion, Riku had only ever needed to deal with fragments Naminé had cobbled together, memories of promises and lazy afternoons with names and faces switched around. Just figures his stint in Real Thing’s heart would complicate things. 

Thing is, even the memories of Sora and Kairi aren’t  _ too _ bad, so long as he doesn’t dwell on ‘em too much. It’s not like the memories are jostling for attention, or actively fighting against each other. Figments and fragments aren’t cannibalizing each other in his brain space, ripping themselves to shreds over which is the real thing. His subconscious is a bit more mature about that than the rest of him, which means that remembering isn’t violent, or jarring, like it was in Castle Oblivion. 

Which is great because, if it was, Riku would have had to invest in industrial strength migraine medication. Instead, it’s like someone tried to use the same film for two different pictures— clumsily superimposing one over the other so that both come out indistinct. 

It’s easier to not think too hard about it. To let whoever’s face first comes to mind habit the memory without questioning who was really there. 

Thinking too hard has only ever backfired on Riku, anyway. 

* * *

Riku doesn’t break promises, so when Xion texts him a few days after their conversation to tell him that everyone’s meeting at the ice cream stand, he shows up.

“Over here, Riku!” Xion’s the first one to see him, and for some reason, her first order of business is to greet him loudly enough to make sure everyone else sees him too. So. That’s his escape route closed off.

Which was probably her intent, actually. Sneaky. Especially considering she didn’t tell him exactly who else would be in attendance. 

Sure, Naminé being there should have probably been a given, considering Xion told him she wanted strength in numbers. Doesn’t stop Riku from feeling like he’s been tricked, but whatever. Fair’s fair, and Xion’s smart enough to figure out that if she didn’t do anything, Riku would probably spend the next two or sixteen weeks avoiding Naminé.

Still kind of underhanded, though. Guess no one gets out of Organziation XIII without picking up a few shady tactics. Riku’s almost impressed under the seven layers of anxiety currently choking his stomach. 

“Hi.” Riku makes an attempt at a wave before thinking better of it and turning it into a less pathetic, unconcerned, I’m-Keeping-My-Hands-in-My-Pockets-because-I’m-Relaxed-and-Confident gesture. Because he’s not a total dork, and he refuses to greet people like one. 

“Hey, squirt,” Axel— no, Lea— greets. “Xion said you might be dropping by, but I wasn’t sure I believed her ‘till just now.” The grin is a nice touch, and Lea’s always been good at faking nonchalance, but he can’t disguise the underlying tension of, ‘we were almost one hundred percent certain you wouldn’t show up, so we didn’t actually prepare ourselves, and now the whole group dynamic is gonna be thrown off,’ that’s coming off him in waves. 

But hey. That’s literally the reason Riku’s here in the first place, so whatever. Xion’s the one who invited him over to change things up, and the only reason she did was to push against the weirdness of the suddenly massive group, anyway. Really, they only have themselves to blame if the general vibe gets messed up.

Luckily, there are at least a few people at the ice cream stand with less Riku-related baggage, Real Thing or otherwise, so after a cursory greeting, Olette goes back to telling Xion some story about a haunted billboard or something. 

Less luckily, one of the people who shouldn’t have an opinion of Riku either way is glaring at him.

Riku can understand Roxas giving him the stink eye: that’s expected. Unfair, but expected. What’s weird is that his blond friend— Hayner, his secondhand memories supply— is glaring with twice the intensity. Riku hasn’t even  _ spoken _ to the guy before. Why the hell is he sizing Riku up like he’d kicked his—

Oh. Oh hell no. 

The thing is, Riku understands being angry on behalf of a friend. He charged right into the emotion the second he spotted Isa standing next to Lea. Sure, it’s a rare treat when he’s free to form his opinion in his own time, considering Isa’s one of the few people Real Thing didn’t have much of an impression of, but that doesn’t take a single, vital fact into account: Isa was a dick to Xion, so he’s a jackass and, as far as Riku’s concerned, dead to him.

So. He gets it. He does. But also, Riku didn’t  _ do _ anything. 

Or, well, he did many things, but none of them were to Roxas, so he and Hayner can stow the dirty looks. Riku wasn’t the one who beat Roxas up and essentially killed him for a bit. That wasn’t his bad. He refuses to feel guilty for the dick moves Real Thing pulled.

Although… Maybe he should apologize for making things awkward and crashing their party. As, like, common courtesy. 

“Okay, sure,” Pence says, interrupting Riku’s inner monologue, “we know the real reason behind the old mansion being like that  _ now, _ but I still say that something could have happened before you moved in. Could still be haunted.”

“Perhaps,” Naminé concedes, making a tent with her hands. “I didn’t see any ghosts around when I was living there, though.”

“Leave it, Pence,” Olette says, sighing. “I swear. You want the town to be way cooler than it actually is.”

“Twilight Town  _ is _ cool!” Roxas objects, and the weight of his glare is finally shoved off Riku, only to barrel straight into Olette. 

“Sure,” Olette says, unphased despite the metric ton of disapproval falling on her head. “It’s pretty cool, yeah, but it gets kinda old after a while. Especially now that we know there’s more out there.” She sighs. “Besides,  _ you _ get to actually leave and see other places. Less orange places.”

“Um,” Xion interjects, her hand resting on the crook of her elbow. “If you really want to— I mean, if you’re interested in other worlds and everything— I could, um…” She smiles, but it’s kind of offset by the jerky motion of her shrug. “Show you around sometime? We got permission for the beach trip, so it probably won’t be an issue.”

Yeah right. More likely Yen Sid will either never know, or Xion’s willing to take whatever he dishes out in punishment. Still. Riku came here to provide support, so...

“San Fransokyo’s nice around now,” Riku says. “Should still be Spring over there, so the cherry blossoms are blooming.”

“Cherry blossoms?” Olette asks, turning to face him, and nope, shit, Riku did not think this through, but Xion’s staring at him with big, hopeful eyes, and when did Riku become such a _sap?_ Ugh.

“Yeah,” Riku says. “They’re, uh… very pink.” Great job. Descriptive. He should become a poet. 

“That so?” Olette laughs. “Well, I guess if I want a better picture, I should just take Xion up on her offer.”

Xion beams, and well, alright then. Mission accomplished. 

“Hey!” 

Lea’s voice suddenly rises, and faster than Riku can blink, Hayner has scrambled over half the length of the tram commons, Pence in tow. Whatever the hell they’re doing, Riku can’t be sure— they look like they’re tossing something back in forth, but they’re too far away to see what it might be. 

“Really?” Isa drawls, crossing his arms. “I’d expect better.”

“I’ll say. Those two picked the wrong fight,” Lea says, rolling up his sleeves for some reason. Or... trying to at least. His arms look vacuum sealed most of the time, so it’s performative at best. 

“And who said I was talking about them?” Isa arches an eyebrow. “Lost your touch?”

_ “Who _ would expect someone to steal their scarf, and no, nope, don’t say you! Do not say you would. I see you opening your mouth, and I don’t have time because two little twerps  _ stole my scarf!”  _ Lea’s voice only rises as he starts to barrel towards the thieves, who seem… less than impressed. 

Well. At least they’re having fun. And if it gets Hayner off Riku’s back for a while, then well, two birds one stone.

“Um, Riku,” a soft voice behind him prompts, “can we talk for a second?”

Uh oh.

Riku knew he’d have to have this conversation eventually. He just kind of hoped he’d be able to put it off until after the warm, fuzzy hangout session was over and done with. He and Naminé don’t exactly have a great track record when it comes to keeping a light mood going. 

But whatever. Better to shoot himself in the foot quickly, or take the bandaid off the grenade while he can, or whatever. 

“Not sure we could fit more than a word in, but we can try,” Riku says, but the joke falls flat. He sighs. “Look, I’m—”

“I apologize for—”

“—sorry. What.”

They both stare at each other for a long moment because, really, just, what the hell, but Naminé recovers faster. 

“Riku, you have nothing to apologize for,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m deeply sorry if I made things uncomfortable, and I understand if you would prefer I keep my distance, considering everything that happened, especially with regards to how graceful you’ve been so far.” She begins to pick up speed, her words coming too fast for Riku to interrupt. “If you would prefer, I can spend less time around everyone so that you can enjoy their company without worrying about my presence, and—”

“No!” Riku winces. “No, no that’s not—  _ You’re _ fine. I’m the one who’s…” He scrambles for words. “Sorry, I, uh… I’m the one who’s making everything weird. It’s all me.” 

“What?” Naminé looks at him like he’s speaking another language, and alright, Xion was right and Riku’s a jackass. He should have just cleared this up to begin with. 

“I mean…” Riku pulls at his hair in frustration. “Me being around is just going to make things awkward for you, and I know we’ve never  _ really _ hung out, and it’d just be awkward to pretend it’s fine, so I just... thought it’d be better to, uh, not?” Eloquent. Someone pay him by the word. 

“Riku…” Naminé sighs, and when she smiles, the sad edge of it cuts deeper than a knife.“You have to stop doing everything for my sake.”

_ “You _ were about to stop hanging with your friends for my sake,” Riku objects, crossing his arms. “I don’t think you get to say that.”

“False equivalency, I think, but turnabout is fair play,” Naminé says. She laughs, which is something, at least. “We could take turns playing the martyr if you want?”

_ “Ugh!”  _

A groan from behind the both of them stops Riku short before he can answer. The shock of the interruption sends him turning on his heel, his hand twitching, but he manages to avoid summoning Way to The Dawn. 

“Don’t even—” Roxas cuts himself off with an exasperated huff that sounds like it was forced out of his lungs. “If I see anyone dissolve into light and disappear one more time— literally  _ or _ figuratively— I am going to scream.” 

“Roxas!” Naminé is holding her hand to her heart, and Riku can’t blame her. No one they know takes kindly to being startled anymore. 

“How long have you been listening?” Riku demands. 

“I wasn’t trying to,” Roxas says, rolling his eyes. “You both just…” He waves a hand. “Started talking. Not my fault you jumped straight into it the second everyone else turned their back.”

Ah. Well. 

The sound of Naminé laughing takes the rest of whatever wind Riku may have had left in his sails, so he sucks it up. It  _ was _ kind of their bad. Kind of. 

And, well, Roxas deserves to get his revenge where he can, probably. 

“Listen, uh…” Riku hedges, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Roxas?”

“That  _ is _ my name, yeah,” Roxas says because Riku’s life is horrible and he should know better than to expect anything other than torturous agony when he speaks to another human being. 

“I’m trying to apologize,” Riku grits out, “so can you not be...?” He leaves off the ending of the sentence. Roxas can fill out the blanks with whatever synonym for ‘jackass’ he wants, but Riku won’t have the blood of this murdered attempt at a conversation on his hands alone. 

“Apologize for what?” Roxas says, which is rich coming from the guy who’s been sending Riku death glares since he first stepped on-scene. 

“Crashing your bonding time. Making things weird. Being a general human reminder of…” Riku makes a vague gesture at his face. “Y’know. Take your pick.”

Roxas makes a humming noise, which tells Riku absolutely nothing. So that’s great. 

“I mean, yeah?” Roxas says, after a while, which again:  _ great. _ “I’m not gonna lie; I was going to give you shit at first, but…” He shrugs. “You’re a different person, right? Always feels like garbage whenever someone treats me like part of Sora. It’d be a dick move to treat you like…” He makes a face. “What do you call him? Rough draft?”

“Roxas!” Naminé sounds like she’s choking on air, but Riku’s too busy being startled by his own laugh to check on her.

“Well,” Roxas says, grinning, even as he pretends not to notice how they’re reacting. “If not, you should. But you get what I mean. Besides, Xion and Naminé like you, so… Best recommendation you can have, right?” 

Fair point, kind of. Only problem is, the last time Riku checked, the two girls hung out with Real Thing more than he does. 

“Hate to burst your bubble,” Riku says, straightening out. “But I think they also—”

“We all make mistakes,” Roxas interrupts, and that’s as good a sign to drop it as any. 

At least Riku can say he tried to mend that bridge. Granted, he didn’t try very hard— more like he tossed a rope across a forty foot chasm and shrugged when it missed— but still, he tried. Not like his intervention was going to do anything to help; Real Thing set fire to that pretty effectively when he was running around in a blindfold and jumping off buildings.

“I’m hurt,” a new voice interjects, which is all the warning Riku gets that Lea has not only won back his scarf, but immediately started eavesdropping the second he did. “What about  _ my _ opinion? What’s that worth?”

“Three munny,” Isa says, cutting in before Roxas has a chance to draw breath. Not that he’s far behind. 

“Less than a popsicle stick,” Roxas declares. His delivery is pretty good: flat and even. Too bad it all falls apart when Hayner high-fives him and he starts laughing at his own joke. 

“Aw, that’s not fair,” Xion contests, looking up from where she’s been showing Olette pictures on her gummiphone. 

“Thank you!” Lea spreads his arms. “Finally, someone who cares about—”

“It’s worth at least a lucid shard or two,” Xion finishes, grinning. 

“I should have kept my fu— freaking makeup.” Lea crosses his arms, falling back against the wall behind him. “Could use a reminder not to cry with friends like these.”

“Lea, they’re teenagers,” Isa says, rolling his eyes. “They know what the F word is.”

“Big talk for someone calling it ‘the F word’,” Lea says, waving a hand like he’s throwing away invisible garbage.

“Fuck,” Olette says, conversationally, then has the nerve to look startled when everyone looks at her. “What? Someone had to say it.” She shrugs. “Might as well be me.”

“Uh, hello?” Hayner says, shaking his head, a smirk wide on his face. “I think someone’s still gotta say it, ‘cause that ain’t the ‘f word’ I know.” 

There’s a moment where only Roxas is grinning at Hayner with more excitement and affection than whatever nonsense he’s spewing seems to merit, but it’s only a heartbeat or two before looks of delighted comprehension dawn on Pence and Olette’s faces. Which, great. That’s four people out of nine who know absolutely anything about whatever’s happening. Maybe next time they can aim for a full fifty percent.

_ “Right,” _ Pence says, dragging out the word, even as it hitches on his laugh. “Yeesh, Olette, how could you forget?”

“My bad, guys,” she manages to wheeze out past her laughter. “That one’s on me.”

“What are you talking about?” Xion asks, and if Riku hadn’t been invited for this specific reason, if he didn’t have memories upon memories of jealousy built up in his head, he may not have noticed the way her fists are clenching. But he does.

“Yeah,” Riku says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Why don’t you share with the class?” 

“Sure!” Pence says, an easy grin on his face.

Oh. That was easy. 

“Gotta warn you though,” Pence continues, “it’s kind of weird as far as inside jokes go. As in, like, it’s not even our inside joke.”

“For real,” Hayner agrees, folding his hands behind his head. “It’s like… It’s not like the three of us have actual memories from the digital versions of us, or anything, but when Roxas tells us about them, or digital Twilight Town, it’s like… Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Way to talk around it without actually explaining, guys,” Olette says. She shakes her head. “Basically, in the digital Twilight Town, some nobodies broke in and stole everyone’s photos of Roxas. But!” She holds up a finger, posing more dramatically than revealing some weird joke probably deserves. “That wasn’t all they stole!” 

“They stole the word, too,” Roxas interjects. “No one could even say ‘photo’.”

“Roxas!” Olette sticks her tongue out at him, reaching over to jostle his shoulder. “I was building up to it!”

“Sorry,” Roxas says, broad grin on his face. “Couldn’t tell.”

“Uh- _ huh,” _ Olette drawls. “I’m  _ so _ convinced.”

“Anyway!” Pence cuts in, thankfully, before their conversation can spiral. “The built-in censoring is pretty funny, even if it’s just hearing about it second-hand, so we decided: hey, why the photo not, right?”

“Photo yeah, man,” Hayner says, pumping his fist. 

“But… it doesn’t start with an F?” Riku narrows his eyes. “I mean, I get why it’s funny.” Kind of. Not really. “But why would that be the F word?”

“I don’t know how to read,” Roxas says.

There’s a beat of silence where everyone stares at him, and for a solid moment, Riku thinks that this might not just be news to him, but to everyone in attendance, which can’t possibly be right. He just got there. No way do Roxas’s friends, who’ve known him for way longer, not know something about him that’s this integral to daily life. Still, in that second, he’s not sure. 

Then chaos erupts.

“Oh my—”

_ “Roxas!” _

“You  _ cannot _ keep doing this. First it was the—”

“Dude, look at his face! You can’t just—”

“ —ing people you don’t know what gravity is, and now—”

Riku can barely make out what anyone is saying, just scraps of chaotic sound and phrases, until he feels a calloused hand on his wrist. He follows the hand up to its owner, meeting Xion’s stare head on. 

“He’s joking,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Key strategy for dealing with Roxas: if he admits he doesn’t know something, he’s probably lying. On the other hand, if he keeps yelling that he’s fine and totally knows what he’s doing…” She makes a face. 

“Got it,” Riku, who doesn’t get it, says. Not that it matters. It isn’t as if he and Roxas were ever going to be joined at the hip; trying to figure out whatever’s going on in his head would be a wasted effort.

In any case, it only takes a few more moments for the group to stop yelling all at once and split into different conversations, which is a vast improvement. Large groups are chaotic enough; every single person in attendance bellowing their lungs out at the same time is just… excessive. Migraine inducing. Bad.

Even when they’re talking at a relatively normal volume, it’s difficult to focus. Everyone talks in pockets: Isa and Lea whispering to each other; Olette and Hayner arguing about something to do with posters; Naminé, Roxas, and Pence chatting about… birds? For some reason?

Is Riku supposed to be joining in? Is there a good place  _ to _ join in? How is he even supposed to talk to any one of them when he can hear the other groups talking the whole time? How can  _ they _ talk to each other without getting distracted by everyone else? 

Riku hasn’t even realized his fists are clenching up, or that his posture’s stiffened, until Xion takes hold of his wrist again. 

“Hey.” Xion arches an eyebrow, but the expression looks more understanding than condescending. “Do you need to leave?” She asks, voice low so that it doesn’t carry. 

“Why would I—” Riku starts to bristle before he realizes he’s being a tool and somehow forgot the whole reason he’s even here. Of course Xion knows what’s going on— she’s the one who asked him to come because of this whole… thing. The weird group cluster thing. 

“I don’t need to…” Riku trails off, wilting under her unimpressed stare. He looks back and forth, checking to make sure everyone’s still absorbed in their own conversations. “I’m supposed to be  _ your _ moral support.” 

“Riku.” Xion sighs, shaking her head. “That isn’t a—” She huffs out a sigh, smiling. “This isn’t a one-way street. I’m not going to ask you to burn yourself out for my sake. You already helped a bunch.” He did? When? “Now let me return the favor and get you out of here.”

“What do you— You’re leaving with me?” 

“Of course,” Xion says, looking at him like she’s startled he even had to ask. The revelation is more of a relief than Riku expected; it’d feel like a real dick move to leave by himself so early on, especially considering it’s the first time he’s been invited to hang out. Still… is this really okay?

“Are you sure?” Riku asks. “I know you want to hang out with… uh…” Everyone isn’t the word, but with Riku’s luck, people would start eavesdropping the second he implied they’re not a big happy family. 

“Yeah,” Xion says. “I’m kind of tired, and, well, I do need to get used to, uh…” She makes a face and sighs. “I don’t want to feel like I’m missing out every time they’re hanging out with me. That’s not— it’s not true, and it’s not fair. So.” A smile flickers on her face. “Leaving when I want to leave is a step, right?”

A weight settles in Riku’s gut, some weird coil of jealousy and pride that’s as familiar as it is unwelcome. Xion’s doing everything she can to grow: to change for the better. Even though she’s grappling with her own insecurities, her own darkness, she’s still taking the time to think about him. It makes Riku feel staggeringly weak in comparison. 

Weak, but… hopeful. There are paths other than stagnation after all. Ways forward.

“Riku and I are gonna head out,” Xion announces. To their credit, most of the group is pretty fast about covering up their startled looks. 

“Where are you going?” Olette asks, but there isn’t any suspicion or judgment in her tone. The knot in Riku’s stomach uncoils a little. Then it tightens right back up when he realizes he doesn’t have any excuse other than ‘noise bad’.

“He promised to show me a few different stances,” Xion says, not skipping a beat. “I keep trying to use the same fighting style for each form change, and it’s messing me up.”

“You’re telling me,” Lea says, groaning. “I keep trying to swing mine like my chakrams.” He scratches the back of his head, shooting a hesitant smile Riku’s way. “That sounds like a good— If you wouldn’t mind helping someone else out sometime, I can pay you back with some pointers on fire magic.”

“Uh, sure,” says Riku, who didn’t know he was helping anyone with anything before this conversation began. 

“I’ll spar with you too,” Roxas says, expression unreadable. 

“Now?” Riku asks, something like panic stirring in his stomach. Panic, and, for whatever reason— probably because Riku’s body hates him and wants him to die— something like excitement. Which is ridiculous for a slew of reasons beyond the fact that he and Xion aren’t actually sparring, in the first place.

“Nah,” Roxas shakes his head, kickin out his feet. “Not now. I want ice cream. But later.”

“Sure?” Riku agrees, not quite certain what the hell has happened over the course of this conversation.

“Great!” Xion says, pumping a fist. “Now that that’s all settled: bye, everybody!”

The rush of goodbyes, when it hits, is just as overwhelming as any other instance of everyone talking at once, but, for some reason, Riku doesn’t mind it as much. It feels… warm, almost.

Once they depart, the walk up to the station heights is quiet, for the most part, but it’s comfortable. Most people are at work, so the dull roar of people is muted, and the nearby cicadas are all but background noise at this point. Besides, it’s always been easier for Riku to tune things out when he’s moving, and the incline of the hill tugs at Riku’s muscles, a comfortable rhythm of flexion and extension.

“Thanks, Riku,” Xion says, once they’re about halfway up the hill. 

“I said I’d help you out.” Riku shrugs. “Just keeping my promise.”

“Kinda went above and beyond, honestly.” Xion clears her throat, and when Riku looks over, her face is flooding with color. “With the— San Fransokyo, and, um…” She sighs. “Was I, uh, that obvious?”

“Is this about Olette?” Riku asks, and Xion makes a strangled noise. 

_ “Riku!” _

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and he does actually mean it, but also… it’s kind of funny. “Uh. You were, a little bit, but I don’t think anyone else caught on.” Maybe Lea, from the looks of it, but he also seems to be a glorified chaperone, and hopefully he knows better than try to give romantic advice when his ex situation is… the way it is. 

“Ugh.” Xion rubs at her face. “Thanks anyway. For the… uh… support.” She looks down. “I, um… I didn’t really, uh, have any real contact with girls my age for a long time, so it was really… I did, suddenly, and it was just, oh, wow, girls! So, it’s just… a lot? All at once?” She bites her lip, then smiles. “But it’s also... I don’t know! It’s really nice. Stressful, kind of, because I don’t know what I’m doing  _ at all _ , but… really nice.” 

“Yeah,” Riku says, nodding. “It’s can be kind of scary when you first figure it out, but it’s definitely…” He trails off because wait. Wait a second.

He processes for a moment. This is one of those moments where if he doesn’t think about it, his first impulse is that he likes men. That feels right.

However. If he thinks about it, Riku— not Real Thing, but  _ Riku _ — has not, to his knowledge, sat down and had the conscious thought that he’s gay. It… it feels right, but it’s also as if he woke up one day at the top of a staircase, rather than climbing his way up. Or like the process of learning about himself was sped up, a glitched scene selection where he materialized halfway through the movie. 

Ah hell. Is he going to have to talk to Real Thing about this? He hates talking to himself about this kind of stuff. 

“Riku, are you alright? You’re zoning out a bit.”

“Uh, yeah,” he answers on autopilot. “Just thinking about… myself.”

“Ah. I get it.” Xion nods, smiling. “I know I keep saying this, but… thanks, Riku. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Riku says, scrambling for anything to redirect the conversation away from the pit of sincerity and appreciation he’s starting to drown in. “I still haven’t figured out how I feel about you volunteering me as a practice dummy.”

“Oops?” Xion says, but she doesn’t seem very sincere about it. “If it helps, I’ll be there too. We can even go two against one, if Roxas gets too…” She makes claws with her hands and swipes the air. 

“Feral cat?” 

“Kinda!” Xion says, voice bright. 

“Well, at least there’s that,” Riku says, rolling his eyes. “I want it in writing that if your best friend tries to kill me, you’re going to intervene.”

“He’s your friend too, now, you know,” Xion says confidently, as if there’s any ounce of truth in that statement at all. “After today, we all are.”

Riku arches an eyebrow at her. 

“What?” She challenges. 

“ _ You _ don’t even want to be friends with all of them,” Riku says, thinking of Isa, and he only feels a little bad about the way she deflates.

“C’mon, Riku,” she groans. “I just meant that… Ugh, fine! So you’re not buddy-buddy with everyone. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun, or that you won’t be friends eventually.”

Riku considers arguing, but lets it be. If Xion thinks ten minutes of hanging out is enough to make them all good pals who is he to trample on her overly-optimistic illusions? Besides, the entire point of the exercise was to make Xion a little more comfortable around a friend group that’s tripled in size, and if this is her way of getting cozy with the idea, Riku’s not gonna stop her. 

It’s not like anyone else is around, and he’s not entering into a contract or anything. At the very worst, he’ll get stuck sparring with some of them for the next week or so: just until attacking him with a blunt object loses its appeal. At best, they’ll forget he even agreed to it. 

“Sure, Xion,” he says, sighing. “Eventually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did i decide to write a scene where eight different people have to talk. why did i do that to myself.


End file.
